


Wrong (Phan)

by twentyonephilips



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:46:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9113353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twentyonephilips/pseuds/twentyonephilips
Summary: Dan gets hot to the thought of Phil but then it gets really angsty. Not sure how that happened sorry lmao I hate myself





	

Heat, aching, desperation, _need_.

Dan's mind and body were flooded with feelings as he woke up in a sweaty, delirious heap, tangled up in his damp and soiled covers much too early in the morning, for what was probably something like the fourth time that week.

He made a noise between a grunt and a whine into his pillow and shifted, looking for some -- God forbid -- comfortable way to achieve actual sleep. That of course, with the agonizing way his hips grazed the mattress, did the exact opposite of help him relax. Thoughts of his dreams of the past nights crept into his mind, the fabricated memories of hands, limbs, and lips everywhere, of heat and desire and soft touches and lewd sounds echoing in his ears, his efforts to shove the imaginative thoughts away useless and exhausting. Frustration with his situation and with himself thickened the shroud in his mind, his eyebrows furrowing as he sank into the uncomfortable warmth of his bed.

He wasn't sure when exactly he had started to look at his best friend differently. Maybe it had been that way all along -- admittedly, he developed a huge crush on him the day he found his channel. Everyone knew that he loved the adorable raven-haired boy; they had been closer than anything since that first skype session. But the love he had for Phil seemed to have at some point rooted itself deeper into his brain, twisted itself into something he didn't recognize and was scared to acknowledge. The feelings he had, of course, were brought on with that last torrential wave of horomones that he'd fallen prey to toward the end of his teen years, a few years prior. They'd evolved from a sort of friendly and innocent crush when the subtle flirting had been introduced early on, and from there it had only gone downhill. Nights like these were frequent, and what someone would call a "wet dream", such as was his current problem, happened more often than he would even care to admit to himself.

From the beginning it had been like a dream come true. He befriended his idol. After 18 years of having no one, to finally have a constant best friend, to finally be able to hug him for the first time and to hold his hand and know that he was actually there, that he was the living, breathing Phil and he was real -- it felt like a movie. Every moment, he thought of Phil -- there was nothing else. His whole world was Phil. Phil became his reason to stay alive. He was finally happy. And it couldn't be wrong to feel happy with your best friend.

Right?

But even then, other people seemed to read through everything they did, to know everything that he wasn't sure about himself. He remembered Phil returning his gestures, even kissing him once, very drunkenly, at a party where even as they blended with the buzzing crowd they felt like the only two people in the world. But Dan was sure that Phil didn't feel quite the same way that he did, and he probably never would. It frustrated him that he couldn't explain how Phil made him feel different, that "friends" didn't seem quite right to sum up their relationship. The only ways he knew of expressing the confusing affection he had for Phil, considering his inexperience thereof, were only characteristic of their unique friendship. He had rehearsed the words _I love you_ over and over again for years, but they never sounded perfect enough. But when he realised that how he felt wasn't "normal" or "right", he was scared. So he locked it away.

A strange feeling crept up on him when he let his mind wander to Phil, as he watched his friend go about his business. He loved to watch Phil's face light up when he was excited about something, how his tongue stuck out a bit when he laughed, how his pink lips pursed when he was focused, how his eyes flashed and he bit his lip when he said something cheeky. He loved how everything of Phil's smelled like him, of the warmth and joy that he spread everywhere he went. He took note of the flush of Phil's cheeks when he was flustered, and the way his blue eyes sparkled when his friend smiled his pretty, radiant smile. He had spent a lot of time looking into those eyes, absorbing every detail and memorizing the shades of blue, green and yellow unique to Phil, who chastised him for staring as he grinned from embarrassment. He began to notice the fit of Phil's shirt, the way his thin muscles and shoulders moved beneath it, the slope of his back, the fit of his jeans. By then, he would be hoping to god that Phil would stay focused on whatever he was doing, and that the odd position Dan adopted or the computer in his lap would hide the subtle arousal that strained in his pants.

When they bought the flat together, building big forts in the living room, playing Mario Kart and Pokemon together or watching marathons or mindlessly scrolling through Tumblr while wrapped under layers of blankets, leaning against each other and laughing and doing normal things they had always done, he hated that he didn't fight--didn't want to fight--the scenarios he would imagine where they both would lean in to close that tiny distance between their bodies or their lips, or Dan would smooth away the undeniably cute strand of hair that always fell into Phil's eyes and hold his friend close and finally tell him what he was feeling.

He hated that the little fantasies got worse than that, when he had started to imagine what Phil's pale skin would feel like beneath Dan's hands, the way he would move against Dan or the sounds he would make when he was pleasured.

Dan still couldn't find a way to make that sound less horrible.

This feeling, this love, this _whatever it was_ was what crept into his dreams and left him in his current state, breath hitching as his hand hovered over his damp and ruined boxers. The covers had been abandoned quickly when they became too hot to be in, and he lay spread open, wanting the constant ache to end. He hated it. People didn't touch themselves to the thought of their best friend. He knew it was horrible, he was horrible.

He gave a small gasp and a curse as his hand hovered over his hard bulge, slowly slipping it under the fabric to ghost over the sensitive skin. Exhaling shakily, he wrapped his fingers around himself and started to stroke softly. His entire body felt heavy and overheated, his face burning as he fought shame. This was wrong for so many reasons.

But he slowly forgot how dirty it felt as he pictured Phil; Phil's body beneath his hands, Phil's mouth against his, Phil whispering filthy things in his ear as he pinned Dan against the mattress. He felt strange warmth flood his body as his movements quickened a bit. He thought of Phil's lips, how soft they were and how they would look stretched around his cock. He thought of Phil kissing him senseless, hips moving roughly against each other and his hands in his hair, and _oh god_ it felt good.

But it was wrong. He was disgusting for doing this, didn't deserve Phil as a friend. But he didn't want to think about it, just wanted the ache inside him to go away, didn't care that he shouldn't feel this way. He just needed to feel relief.

Dan scrunched his eyes shut and let his head tilt back, biting his lip, pace quickening again as he held back a moan.

He imagined Phil against him, breath hot against his neck and hands roaming over Dan's body, that it was Phil's hand that jerked him off. He wondered how Phil liked to be touched, how Phil would look naked, how his eyes would close and his back would arch and he would hold desperately onto Dan and shake as he came apart in Dan's hands--

Dan whined softly into his pillow, doing his best to keep quiet. It was too much and it wasn't enough. He wanted Phil on top of him, wanted Phil to take all of him and mark him because he wanted to belong to him and only him, wanted Phil to choke him as he fucked him hard into the mattress, wanted Phil to say his name as he came deep inside of Dan, wanted Phil, Phil, _Phil_.

Dan moaned loudly, saying Phil's name into the quiet, dark room as he came over his hand, hips bucking into his own touch as he rode out his orgasm. It took a moment for his head to clear and his situation to sink in before he realized what he had just done. Then he heard a soft knock and his heart dropped right into his stomach.

"Dan?"

He immediately froze and panicked, his skin crawling as he struggled to think of what to do. Phil had heard him masturbating, heard him moan his name in the middle of the night ohgodohgodohgodohgod FUCK why was Phil up how much did he hear should he pretend to be asleep what can he say what to do what to do what to do...

He started to choke up, but he remained still and listened to hear Phil outside the door. He concentrated hard on making his voice steady.

"Yeah?" His voice broke. Great start.

"You okay?" Phil's sleepy, concerned voice asked through the door. He paused. "...I thought I heard you calling me."

He wanted to die. His mind and his heart were racing. "I'm fine. Just a bad dream," he lied.

"Sorry...do you want me to come in?" Phil asked softly.

Dan felt his stomach do a somersault and he felt acid rise in his throat. The thought of Phil seeing him like this made him sick, and the fact that it turned him on made him feel so much worse.

"No, it's okay," Dan hurried. "It's gone."

He heard a small sigh. "Okay, if you're sure." Phil paused again, creating a tense silence. "G'night, Dan," he finally said, footsteps retreating into his room. Then he quietly shut his door, leaving Dan to his guilt.

The feeling of sickness didn't go away as Dan sank back into his pillow. The same thought stayed with him as he fell back into a restless sleep: the same one that had haunted him since he was 18. He had been right all along. He didn't deserve Phil as a friend.

. . .

Phil had been in the kitchen, scuffling and bleary-eyed as he poured some of his (Dan's) cereal, when he heard a soft noise from down the hall. He didn't think much of it, just that Dan might have woken up and shifted to get comfortable. He finished eating and padded back toward his room, but another groan stopped him in his tracks, this time more strangled sounding. Suddenly concern made him tune his ears to listen closely. Seconds later he heard Dan's distinctly breathless voice call his name into the still apartment, and he froze.

What was that? Did Dan need help? Was he hurt? Phil hesitated, running through possibilities in his head before raising his arm to knock softly on the door. "Dan?"

He waited. Silence. He started to wonder if he was hearing things, but before he could back away thinking he must be crazy he heard Dan's shaky response. "Yeah?"

"You okay?" Phil asked, wondering why Dan sounded weird. "...I thought I heard you calling me."

Dan was quiet for a moment. "I'm fine. Just a bad dream."

Phil frowned. Dan used to have bad dreams a lot before, but never like this. He would always go to Phil's room and curl up next to him, claiming if he slept alone they would come back. Phil was more than happy to comfort him then, as he was now. But he could tell Dan was acting a little strange this time.

"Sorry...do you want me to come in?"

Dan was quick to turn him down. "No, it's okay! It's gone."

Phil sighed. "Okay, if you're sure," he said unconvinced. He waited for Dan to say something else until he realized he wouldn't. "G'night, Dan," he finally said, stepping away.

Phil felt inexplicably strange as the door clicked shut behind him and he laid down on his bed. The sound of Dan's voice saying his name bounced around his head. It had sounded...desperate? But what was Dan dreaming that made him say Phil's name like that?

He remembered years ago, Dan had dreamed about Phil packing up and moving out, saying he didn't want to be friends anymore. That night Dan had knocked and stood in the doorway crying, arms wrapped around himself and long hair casting a shadow on his face as his shoulders rocked with sobs. Phil hadn't said anything, just led Dan to lie down with him and held him close until he calmed down and waited to hear what was wrong.

. . .

_Dan was lying on his side pressed against his chest, hands fisted loosely in Phil's t-shirt as he shook. Phil's arms were wrapped tightly around him, whispering comforting words and rubbing soothing circles on his back._

_The shaking began to subside, and Dan finally looked up to meet Phil's eyes. His mouth opened slightly, but he quickly shut it. He looked down and tried again, his voice barely a whisper. "Are you going to leave, Phil?"_

_He was taken aback. He shifted to watch Dan's face, eyebrows furrowing when he saw Dan bite his quivering lip._

_"Why would I ever do that?"_

_Dan hesitated to answer. "Because I'm not worth it," he croaked, voice breaking. "You deserve so much better." He gasped as a sob racked his body, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks._

_Phil felt like a knife had been jammed into his heart. "No, don't say that!" He shook his head, forcing Dan to look at him. "You're wonderful, Dan. You're beautiful, you're funny, and you have the kindest heart in the world. You're also pretty fun to beat at Mario Kart." He smiled as Dan gave a soft chuckle. "You're my best friend and you mean the world to me. There's no one else I'd rather live with. I'm here to stay. I mean it."_

_Dan coughed on tears that were streaming down his cheeks, tightly wrapping his arms around Phil and burying his face in his shirt. "Promise me," he said weakly._

_"I promise. I love you, bear."_

. . .

Phil would never unsee that broken look on Dan's face when the door opened to the shivering boy, looking scared and utterly alone. Could that be what was bothering him now?

 _"You're my best friend. I love you."_ He had said it so naturally at the time, but looking back that might have been the first time he ever spoke it out loud. _I love you_.

He wished he could tell younger Dan just how much he loved him. He wanted to erase every doubt Dan ever had about them or about himself, to protect him from the bad thoughts and make him know what he meant to Phil and how important he was. He wanted to tell Dan he had doubts too, but that everything would be okay because they had each other. He wanted to tell him that he was the reason Phil kept doing Youtube, the reason "Dan and Phil" was possible, the reason so many lives were changed, the reason millions of people around the world were still fighting.

Dan wasn't worthless. He was important. He was loved. Phil wanted to scream it. _I love you._ He wanted to pound it into Dan's head until he finally believed it. _I love you._ He wanted to press his lips to Dan's and force him to believe it when words inevitably weren't good enough, because words can't begin to describe the feeling of loving someone entirely with every part of your being.

Maybe if he could have told Dan back then, Phil wouldn't feel so lost now. Maybe now Dan would never know. Maybe things weren't meant to be any different.

He rolled onto his side, throat burning with tears as he closed his eyes to his dark room. _I love you, bear_ was the last thing he thought before drifting off to sleep.


End file.
